Trillimide
by SpontaneousDaydreamer
Summary: Trilimide: A highly addicting drug that causes complete and utter control over who ever you give it to. What happens when Freddy, Jason and Michael use this drug on an innocent 16 year old girl? Will anyone be safe from iconic killers or their puppet? What happens when the girl realizes she's being controlled and fights back? Well, you'll just have to find out, won't you? R&R!


**A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my story! I hope you enjoy, and please let me know if you have any questions, complaints, or ideas for future chapters! I am pretty open-minded about criticism, so don't be afraid to give me some advice, either. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my OC!**

* * *

It was truly a boring day.

This was confirmed by a certain burned serial killers terrible mood. His face was set into a deep frown, the burned scars on his face weaving its way into the frown. The capillary like muscles were scowling now, as he gazed upon the other killer who was sitting across the cluster phobic room, the metal heated and contorted into odd shapes where random victims had been thrown and tortured, blood staining the scrap metal walls. Pipes weaved their way up on the ceiling, proudly shimmering, but in some places useless rust erodes the metal, the surface rough and colored a dark ginger color. The other killer's deformed face was covered in a dirty hockey mask, so you could see no emotion except the solemn, calm demeanor in his deep set, glazed over brown eye. The other, was covered by the opaque shapes of shadows that surround the room, the pitch darkness giving it part of its lure. No logical thinking life forms liked the dark, and as if in proof, the air was thick with the stale scent of adrenaline. A subtle shift in the other assailant's movement caught his pale blue eyes, as he watched the killer scrawl across a notepad with precise, even lettering:

_Michael should be back from his meeting by now. I wonder what is taking so long._

His words were briefly looked over by the Springwood Slasher, and he gave a shrug, though his scowl set even more deeply in its place at having yet _another_ mute to deal with. He grumbled under his breath, his gloved hand flexing as the knives sheathed and unsheathed menacingly, the silvery appearance glinting with signs of a fresh polish. Since when had all of his tools ever been this clean before? It seemed to have been years since his knives had glistened with such a terrible beauty. You could see some red blood still staining the incisors from where too much blood had become a permanent paint job. A smirk caught in the reflecting panes as he whisked the razors through the air, nearly beheading the third party that was now entering into the suffocating heat and cramped space of the infamous Boiler Room. But as usual, Michael Myers merely kept walking, his calm demeanor counter-contagious too Freddy and Jason. They both glared, and Freddy growled as Michael came over to tower over the lounging form of the man, whose burned face was breathing arrogance. "What do you want? What did Pinhead say?" He growled, not amused by the mute psychopath's game. He gave Jason a look, and he immediately handed over the notepad, as if by some psychic communication that they had. Freddy tapped his foot impatiently as he heard the sounds of scribbles being made on paper.

**Pinhead found a new way we could get a servant.**

Freddy immediately grew interested. "How?" He says, getting up and staring into the hollow black pits of Michael's masked eyes. He scrawled, but not fast enough, for Freddy quickly drew his razor sharp talons towards his throat. "Out with it you retard!" He shouts, before getting shoved back by Michael with pure force, his back exploding with a hot burst of pain. Cursing, he tossed his whole glove to pin Michael against the wall, causing him to writhe under the grasp of the claws. Warm, tempting blood oozed from a dagger, causing Freddy to chuckle darkly as he picked up the only thing that the two mutes communicated to him with.

**He has found out that on the streets that there is a drug called Trilimide. It makes you completely complaint to whoever gives you the drug. **

"Hmm…I like this idea already." Freddy says with a twisted smile. He continued to read, hoping that it got more interesting.

**He told me where we could get some.**

This time, Freddy's eyes grew a bit colder, and a devilish smile crosses his face. He knew that this was going to get a _lot_ more interesting. He almost didn't notice when Jason snatched the notepad and was now writing.

_Almost._

"Hey, what was that for, you fucking momma's boy?!" he snarled, taking a huge swipe at the air. Jason simply unsheathed his machete and held it up in a patient manner, as if stating that he would deal with him once he was finished. Soon his scrawling was complete, and he held it up, smack in front of Freddy's face.

_Wouldn't that be making them a bad person?_

The burned man rolled his eyes and cursed again, muttering about how ignorant the pathetic hockey puck could be. "Look, they're going to have no control over their own actions. We can make them do anything we want." A sly smirk crossed his burned lips. "They won't be inflicting the drug on themselves, so no." He finished in a huff. Jason seemed slightly muzzled by this, though he reached for the notepad, not planning on backing down.

_What would we make them do?_

Michael had by this time come behind Jason. And flipped the page to respond to Jason's inquires.

**We would have them tell everyone we are still alive, and it would ultimately give us more power. They could help us with our kills, by making others fall asleep, or go to your camp, saying that they are safe when they are obviously not. They would assist me by helping me find and kill my family.**

Jason contemplated this, and decided that it might be a good idea. Getting Bad People to come to his camp would definitely please mommy. He would be able to get rid of all of the bad teenagers for her! After a few moments of contemplation, he nodded his agreement. He snatched the notepad and quickly scribbled something on it, trying to ignore Michael's death glares.

_But who will we use? Don't most people know us? The will run. They like to run if they see us._

Freddy growled and cursed under his breath. "You're right, for once." He says, narrowing his eyes at Jason so that he knew it was not something to be expected for him to say more than once. They exchanged a spiteful leer at one another, until Freddy was slapped in the face by a notebook, which Michael had taken and thrown at Freddy when he didn't notice the masked individual's gestures. Flurries of profanities were directed Michael's way as Freddy picked up the notepad.

_Why don't we use someone who's here?_

"Oh I didn't think about that, you smart ass." He grumbled, taking his piercing glare from Jason to Michael. He then adjusts his fedora, rising from his seated position and examining the two mutes with disgust. "Can I trust you two retards enough to find a person?" Jason raised his machete and took a slice through the thick heat, whistling past the slasher's burned face. It spoke enough of a message; or at least, Freddy didn't want to deal with the Crystal Lake Killer right now.

"Okay then. Get out of my sight, I have work to do." He snaps, and leaves the two alone in the dark room. They decide to wake up and exit the Dream world, deciding to get to work as fast as possible.

Once they had woken up, they knew that they had to find a person, and they had to find a way to get the drug that would make the person the killers' own puppet.

Jason walked out of the abandoned, cold wooden cabin, and was surprised to see Michael standing right in front of his face, holding a note.

**Since I've already talked with Pinhead, I will go and meet with him again. He will be able to give me the drug. Can you get the person and bring them here?**

Jason nodded, and wrote back swiftly.

_I can do that. I will find a good girl, and bring her somewhere safe._

Michael nodded simply, and with that, he left the abandoned campsite, his tall, dark form disappearing into the cold, morning fall mist.

After he had disappeared, Jason heard the voice of his Mother talking to him, giving his head a slight pounding sensation.

_Jason dear, are you truly going to go along with this plan?_

_Yes mother. _Jason replied promptly; _I will bring a nice girl to camp. She will help attract more teenagers to the camp, giving me a chance to get rid of them, so there will be fewer bad people in the world! _

Jason could feel the smile on his mother's face as she replied. _Good, Jason. You need to make sure you can control the good girl, and she can be your helper once you find her. Be safe, my special boy._

A gentle smile formed from underneath Jason's mask as he trudged on, heading out towards Springwood.

If only it would be as easy as he had planned.

* * *

_I'm going to die…_

A petite, feminine figure was standing on the roof of a skyscraper that seemed to be one of the largest structures ever created. She gave a soft squeak as she gazed at the bottom, which she could not see. Her gasps became softer, colder as the temperature seemed to droop a good 60 degrees. She felt the air biting at her toes, which were bare, scraping the stones that littered the roof of the building. She scampered back a few steps, her dazzling hazel green eyes looked like they were covered in a sheet of the purest glass, as they glaze over with tears.

_What is this? It… It can't be real, it can't…_

She focused on this one thought as she gulps, taking in as much air as she could. But it proved to be counter-productive as the frigid air seemed to shrink her lungs, the air only providing enough oxygen to keep her alive before she erupted into another fractured gasp. Her whole body was quavering now, trembling not only out of fear, but the cold seemed to penetrate every part of her body, her loosely fitted black and pink shirt with jeans not quite cutting it in subzero temperatures. The wind howled and shocked her into misalignment, and one of her bare feet scraped the sides of the building, drawing blood from the thin, already abused surface. She squealed, her adrenaline pounding through her vei ns like a wild mustang.

_This is a dream! You're not on top of the world's largest skyscraper and you are not about to fall… not going to fall…. _

The girl's thoughts were lost to the roar of the wind, which threatened to loosen the grip she had on the circular, cobblestone ledge. She gave a plea of help, though she knew that it would not be answered. No one was with her. No one was going to help her, and she was going to fall. She could practically _hear_ the stomach churning sounds of her going SPLAT! Once she hit the ground, if there was any.

Suddenly, everything went dark, as pitch black encompassed her peripheral vision as she struggled to keep a hold on the now invisible ledge. She screamed at the top of her lungs, absolutely terrified now. Her two greatest fears: Heights and the dark.

_I'm going to die… I love you Mom, Dad, Lucy…Even Hayley…_

Her fingers ached with pain, begging for her to let go of the ledge. She didn't know whether to oblige or to try to fight back as hard as she could so that she would survive and get past this nightmare, so she could get back into the meadows and star gazing that occupied her usual, much sweeter dreams.

_FOCUS! You have to get through this, Paige. You can survive. Face your fears._

But her limbs were shaking as she stared into the blank abyss that was all around her, and her hands ached even more than before.

But just as she her nimble fingers grazed the pebbles on the top of the roof, and she felt hope flooding her system, a foot stepped on them. The intense pain caused her to cry out in pain, letting go of that single hand, which now sporadically danced about in the emptiness below.

She could feel the figure in front of her, menacing and evil as the blackness that swarmed around her like bees. Her upper lip trembled as she stared up to see the face of the villain, but she could see nothing but the looming shape of the imposing, dangerous stranger, except that it was definitely a masculine from the sound of the voice and the silhouette which had pressed another shoe into her other hand while she was distracted. She hollered as she felt the shoe press harder and harder into her fragile limbs. "What- What do you want with me?" She choked out, her tears cooling and nearly freezing like tiny ice crystals on her face.

"I'm just welcoming you to the neighborhood, Paige." The deep, scratchy voice says as she gasps, realizing that, whoever it was, they knew her name. But before she could react, she was flung off of the ledge as the shoe made her white knuckles unclench, and soon she was cradled by nothing but the air, her body going numb as her limbs went thrashing towards the ground, her heart pounding in her chest, her eyes closed tightly as she brought her hands carefully into her so she could feel more like a whole and less like Jell-O. She made herself look like a professional skydiver, though the only reason she wasn't screaming is because the raging wind was keeping them muzzled inside her throat like a rabid dog in a cage. And as she fell, she could hear dark whispers from the same ominous, wicked voice as before, and it sent shivers up her spine.

"Welcome to Springwood, Paige."

_Paige… He knows my name… _Her mind wrapped around that one thought, trying to keep everything locked out, focusing on that one last thought, because it made no sense, and she thought that contemplating it, even in her final moments, would bring her some sort of peace. She had always liked puzzles.

_Paige… _The voice was changing somehow, not quite so masculine anymore

_Paige… _Wait, she recognized that voice…

"Paige!" The stern, high-strung voice brought her out of her trance, and when she opened her eyes, she could see the delightfully colorful, sunny world that she had come to know and (more than ever) appreciate greatly. She gave a bliss filled sigh, as she started to move her numb limbs again, no longer stuck in an a paralyzing akimbo state. The buttery softness of the car seat's leather was like a God-send as she opened her tightly pressed lips, finally getting up the nerve to speak, seeing as her mouth was no longer ensnared by the terrible screaming of the nightmare. "Yeah, mom?" She asks as she looks around, smiling as she sees her younger sister leaning over her car-seat, her head awkwardly angled to the side in a familiar sleepy state that her father was trying to wake her out of. "We're here dear; it's time to wake up. You were making quite a racquet; I'm surprised you didn't wake your sisters." She said with a glossy, closed lip smile. It was a caring smile that Paige was sure she was never going to see again. But she still played innocent. "What do mean racquet?" She inquires in a coy tone, and her mother gave a _tsk _sound. "You were muttering a lot, and you even screamed." Her mother's gentle, pale, azure eyes wide with worry. "Were you having a nightmare?" She asks, her tone mirroring her eyes. Paige bit her lip, but nodded. "Well don't worry, you're with us now. I'm glad we could get you out of it, it sounded like a dozy." She chimes. _You have __**no**__ idea_, Paige thinks with a soft chuckle. "Yeah, it was." She says as she occupies herself by taking off her seatbelt, and getting out of the car. She looked at the sign that was placed on the front door of the house, along with a friendly looking packet that would give them a bit more information about the town. It was something Paige had seen frequently in her long 16 years of life. She shuddered as she reads the bright, neon caption that was displayed across the front, her tone becoming gloomy.

"Welcome to Springwood." She mutters darkly.

She gazed upon the house, and it didn't look quite as imposing or picture-perfect as the pamphlet. In fact, it looked rather quaint, and less of a dirt pile than the last few places they had lived, like the RV… She shuttered just thinking about it. Her little sister Lucy and Paige had been forced to share a room, and she had nearly gone mad from the multiple times she had been kept up by her little sisters snoring, dream-speak, or having her comfort her in the wake of her nightmares, and there had been many a time when that had happened. Eventually, she just got into bed with her and had Paige sing her a lullaby. The first bars were humming through her mind as her little sister pulled on the hem of her shirt. She always had seemed to know when someone was thinking about her. Tuning in her ears, she gazed down at the child, whose blonde curls glint an ivory white shade as she stood beside her, looking at her with the same dark, chocolate brown eyes as her father.

Lucy began to babble as soon as she felt the teenager's full attention on her. "Look at the house, sissy! It's so big, and pretty! I get my own room! I like that our new house is blue. What does that sign say, Paige? Does it say 'The Austin's house?' She asks, a toothy grin coming across her checks that would charm you into doing just about anything she desired. She wielded the ability happily. "No, it says 'Sold,' Lucy. And yes, I know that you get your own room. I'm glad you're excited! I am too. And yes, our house is, in fact, blue. It's a nice color, don't you think?" She answer her questions in a backwards consecutive fashion, and it perplexes her sister for a moment, but she doesn't need more than a second to respond to her sister's inquiries. "Oh yes! I love blue. Purple is my favorite color, but I like the blue." She says as she stares at her house in awe. Patting her head, she walks over to their worn-out black SUV that had carried them around recently, as her father, Joseph, had just gotten a new job here in Springwood, Ohio. Luckily, it housed all of them. She remembered a time when she had needed to carry Lucy on her lap. 40 suffocating pounds and two limp legs later, her parents had decided to get a better car.

Paige patiently waited while the movers took all of the family's belongings inside. It wasn't much, just the light furniture that they brought with them from house to house and two bags for each member of the family. Her eyes looked like they were transfixed on the house, but in reality she was thinking about the nightmare she had experienced earlier. It was very vexing, because she recognized the skyscraper and frozen, suffocating darkness from her usual nightmares, but who was the strange figure? She frowned, mystified, and in the midst of her focused thinking she didn't realize that a box was about to come into contact with her head.

She cried out in pain as she hit the ground, hard. "What was that for?!" She exclaims as she massages the spot where the hot pressure had decided to leave a mark, and she saw stars until she recognized the face of her older sister Hayley glowering down at her. "Why don't you watch where you're going, you spoiled brat?" She snarls, as she turns sharply, taking the long, stretched out box of pain away.

'Ugh, whatever Hayley." She grumbles, as she rises and goes to get her own box of items.

That's when she saw him.

* * *

Jason watched a girl from the woods, his tall form hidden mostly within the densely packed area of trees. She turned, and hit another person, someone that he couldn't see through the densely packed branches. Jason quickly hides himself, deciding to let her go on her own for now. She wouldn't be going anywhere soon if she was moving in, right? He focused hard on his thoughts, while standing in a deserted, sparsely lit clearing.

_Mother, is this the right girl? She's new to Springwood. Is she a good girl?_

His mother responded quickly, her tone harsh. _No, she is the one you want. She is a bad girl, and bad people are the reason you must do this._

_You're right. _Jason agrees. _Only a good girl can bring bad people to the camp, and then they will be gone just like you want!_

_Like __**we**_want_, Jason. _She replies smoothly, and as soon as it had arrived, his mother's voice fades from Jason's mind as he once again stares at the house, which was now humming with activity, as he began his search for a good girl again…

But where could she be?

Confused, Jason's intense dark eyes narrowed from behind his bloodied, dirty hockey mask. Where did that bad girl disappear to? He wonders, turning around as if it could be _her_ that was watching _him_. A fatal mistake; he wouldn't hesitate to kill the bad girl, just all the rest of the bad teenagers he had killed, and will kill in the future.

Frustrated, Jason pivots on the heels of his large boots, to continue his search for a good girl. _I need to find her soon. _He thinks as his hands clench, displaying his mounting anger. She _needs to come with me; but is their not one good girl who doesn't know about us? Freddy will be annoyed that I did not find a girl yet..._ Not that he mattered, he could go rot in he** for all Jason cared.

_But I do need my helper…_

Jason looked out towards the front of the yard once again, and was shocked with what he saw.

Another girl was right where the bad girl had been before, and she was staring _right at him!_


End file.
